


High Society Rules

by Anonymous



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Dom/sub Undertones, Gags, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Worldbuilding, it's really not at all but just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:36:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29912901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Omegas are meant to be seen and not heard,But bath houses are for omegas only.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 58
Collections: Anonymous, Anonymous Unicorns





	High Society Rules

**Author's Note:**

> It's really just some worldbuilding and descriptions of daily life. Anything to get me writing consistently. 
> 
> Sequel to [**Seen and Not Heard**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25174708)

Omegas are meant to be seen and not heard. 

The bath house is for omegas only. 

Alphas and betas are not allowed past the outer rooms. They may accompany their omegas only as far as the dressing rooms, but never further. It would be impolite. It would be scandalous. 

The bath house is popular in the earliest hours of the morning, as the sun is rising and casting long golden rays of light through the high windows, making the pools sparkle and shimmer. The building seems to come to life, teeming with high society omegas socializing excitedly with one another — one of very few opportunities to do so — getting in rigorous exercise in the lap pools, and gossipping in the heated tubs. 

Many omegas, especially the older ones, wear absolutely nothing at all, letting themselves air out and enjoy the chance to be truly free. Louis has always been a bit more modest, donning a pair of tight swim shorts that hug his thighs and go almost to his knees. There’s no doubt what the shorts conceal, especially in the water, and he honestly loves the way they show off his figure. 

He usually gets to the bath house on the early side, sometimes before the sun has made an appearance and the pool is still lit by gas lamps casting their flicking glow upon the water, and so gets his laps in before anyone he wishes to socialize with arrives. He wouldn’t say that swimming laps is his favourite part of the day, but the way his muscles scream at the effort is rewarding and he loves being able to cut through the water at a speed he would never be allowed to match in the outside world, feeling like the wind itself as he glides. 

Today, when he steps out of the water and heads for the nest of towels that have been provided, the first person he recognizes already has a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Zayn!” Louis yells, sprinting over to him. 

“Louis!” Zayn yells back, matching his pitch. He hands Louis a rolled up towel, soft and scent-less. “I saw you out there, looked like you were trying to win a marathon.”

Louis shrugs modestly, wrapping the towel around his middle. “It’s good to get the blood moving,” he says. “Are you heading to the heated tubs?”

“Of course I am,” says Zayn. “I was just looking for someone to join me so I wouldn’t have to end up surrounded by grand-omegas again.”

“I’m the one for you,” Louis says, taking his hand. “Young and virile, that’s me.”

“Oh lord, I don’t need to hear that.”

They make their way to the far side of the pool, leaving through the archway to a room with a lower ceiling and an array of smaller round pools built into the floor, each one heated from below with coals. Many of them are full already, the sound of omega gossip bouncing off the walls. Louis leads Zayn by the hand over to a smaller one sitting empty. They discard their towels as they step down into it, sighing at the temperature of the water. 

“After what Liam did to me last night, I needed this,” Zayn groans, sitting on the ledge inside the bath and leaning back, using his towel as a cushion for his head. 

“Is that why you didn’t actually do any laps today?” Louis teases. “Just waited for me to be finished and pretended like you had?”

“Ridiculous,” Zayn says, although the sly look on his face gives him away. “I definitely did at  _ least _ two laps.”

“Sure, that hard work definitely earns you a soak in the tubs.” 

“Well it’s not  _ my _ fault you were built to enjoy exercise and I was built to sit back and watch it,” Zayn laughs. 

Louis sinks further into the water, feeling himself unwind, his muscles loosen. “Tell me about more things you like to sit back and watch happen,” he teases. 

“Wouldn’t  _ you _ like to know,” Zayn laughs. “But also Liam is a beast so I’m going to actually force you to hear all about it.”

True to his word, Zayn  _ loves _ to share all the details of his and Liam’s intimate moments. Louis’ pretty sure there hasn’t been a satisfyingly good sex act that Liam’s managed that didn’t immediately find its way to Louis’ ears in the bath house the next morning.

He appreciates it. Makes life more interesting. 

By the time they’ve moved on from Liam’s monster cock and cycled through all the society gossip, the eight o’ clock bells have begun to chime. For Louis, at least, that signals that Harry is waiting for him. He stands and stretches, grabbing his towel to drape around himself as he rises from the pool and leaves Zayn to soak alone (he won’t be lonely, there’s rarely a stranger in the building and someone will want to pass on some news or other soon enough). 

Dripping and skin tinged red from the heat, Louis tiptoes along the cold ceramic tile back toward the front of the building. The dressing rooms are rented out seasonally, but Harry has always been sure to grab Louis’ favourite, so he heads with confidence to room 28. 

He opens the door to the modestly sized but opulently decorated room to find Harry waiting for him, sitting with a book in his lap. He does nothing to hide the way his eyes slide down Louis’ body, taking in his chest and thighs with a greed that should almost be surprising considering how long they’ve been wed. 

“You look like you’ve enjoyed yourself,” Harry says, putting his book aside. “Found someone to gossip with, then?”

“Of course I did,” Louis says. “Can’t imagine going a morning without being cornered by at least one friend in the heated tubs.”

Harry laughs softly. He stands, coming forward and taking Louis’ towel to rub his skin dry. His hands are firm and strong and Louis stands there, lets himself be pampered, the plush towel dragging across his skin. 

“We have a luncheon today,” Harry says. “But I have a meeting with the other alphas in parliament this morning, so you might see Zayn again very soon. Liam is on my side with the new bill we’re trying to pass.”

“He always is,” Louis says. “That’s the point of having a Liam in parliament with you.”

Harry snorts out a laugh. “It is,” he agrees. He throws the towel aside (it’ll be picked up by the cleaning staff eventually) and goes to the wardrobe, the only other piece of furniture in the room. Throwing open its doors, he starts selecting garments. “I want you in blue, today.”

“You  _ always _ want me in blue,” Louis says. 

“It brings out your eyes.”

“So would a nice red.”

Harry rolls his eyes as he steps back. “You’re not a harlot,” he says. “I’ll get you some nice pinks next time, that’s as far as I’ll go.”

Louis bats his eyes at him. “Thank you, Alpha,” he says, his voice honey sweet.

Harry leans down and, without warning, yanks down Louis’ wet shorts. They slap to the ground (the cleaning staff will get those as well), leaving him entirely exposed. Harry takes the moment to grasp Louis’ cheeks and grin up at him, as if he’s captured a prize. 

“Yes, yes, I’ve trained well for that,” Louis says, his turn this time to roll his eyes. 

“And I appreciate it every day,” Harry says, reaching up and pulling Louis down by the back of his neck for a bruising kiss. “Which is why I shall reward you with a gem of your choice.”

“Ruby,” Louis says immediately. He always goes for ruby, and Harry well knows this. He watches Harry reach over to the drawer at the base of the wardrobe and pull out a glass plug with a large glittering ruby encased in the base. 

“Turn,” says Harry, and Louis does, turning to face away from him and leaning forward just a bit. Harry’s fingers are expected but still make him shiver, and the plug soon after is  _ cold.  _ It’s one of the bigger ones, and Louis groans as Harry slides it in with one slow but firm movement, until the base is nestled neatly between his cheeks. He wiggles it a bit after, making Louis gasp, curling his toes and clenching his hole to keep himself still. 

“Beautiful,” says Harry, standing up and taking one of the pieces from the chair that he’d previously retrieved. “Think of me during that meeting when you sit.”

“I always do,” Louis says.

Harry wraps a white silk piece around Louis’ waist that falls to just above his knees, and pulls a ribbon through the holes at either end, cinching it closed just above the swell of Louis’ ass. Expertly, like he’s done this hundreds of times (he has), he weaves the ribbon in criss cross formation down the silk, cinching it closed as he does until he ties it off with an impressive ribbon just above the back of Louis’ knees. It’s restrictive, but not so tight as to leave marks. It’s a reassuring pressure. 

“Blouse,” says Harry, and Louis raises his arms above his head so Harry can pull it on. It’s a soft, light blue material that comes to Louis’ wrists and waist. A modest undergarment, that Harry immediately follows up by wrapping a corset over. This one is a light navy, cut exactly to Louis’ measurements and shaped to accentuate his waist. Harry pulls the ribbon at the back of this one tight enough that Louis is forced to stand straight, his chest pushed forward and his ass accentuated.

“Gloves,” Harry says next. Still standing behind Louis, he takes Louis’ hands one by one and kisses his palms before sliding white leather gloves onto them. Being traditional omega gloves, while they have individual parts on the inside for each finger and thumb, on the outside they appear as just one piece, more of a mitten with a floral gold pattern across the back. The gloves go up past his elbows so that he doesn’t have to worry about them falling off or coming loose. He pulls his hands in front of him to admire the pattern. These ones are new, a gift for his birthday, and the gold thread used to make the floral design glitters in the light. 

“Sit,” Harry says, motioning for Louis to take the chair. Louis does, moving slowly as his knees are neatly cinched together, and Harry bends in front of him to administer his boots. They’re black at the base and white up to his mid-calf, with a heel so high that Louis spent years learning how to keep himself from wobbling. Harry ties them with the expertise of someone who does this every day, and then helps Louis stand again. He wobbles a little despite himself, the heels purposefully high so an omega may need the assistance of an alpha. 

He lifts his gloved hands and stands still for the next part, knowing how Harry so well he could predict his actions with his eyes closed. Harry pulls the modest crinoline over his head (Louis is a wed omega, so his crinoline is small enough that Harry is able to reach him and help him walk, which would be considered terribly rude if he were unwed), and follows it with layers of petticoats. They settle at his waist and are almost immediately followed up by a blue dress, the only thing that the public will see. It’s shades of royal and navy blue, tight at his waist over the corset and flowing smoothly over the petticoats. The sleeves on it are long enough that none of his skin peeks out above his gloves. 

Harry steps behind him and pulls a thick blue ribbon around his waist, perfecting the look of the dress. He ties it at the base of Louis’ spine once, and then around his wrists the second time, securing them together behind him. He finishes the look with a large bow that Louis can’t see but knows is there by how long Harry spends on it. 

Louis’ hands rest comfortably in their gloves against the thick material of petticoats and crinoline. He squirms a little on instinct, but settles down a moment later when Harry takes a smaller ribbon and threads it through the ends of his sleeves, cinching Louis’ elbows together and making a smaller bow. 

It could be worse. Louis knows some omegas whose alphas insist on forming their hands into a position of reverse prayer. It’s a symbol of their obedience but it stings like hell after a day, and Louis would rather not have to work out those extra stiff muscles. 

Harry kisses at the nape of his neck and then spins Louis around. Louis stumbles at the movement, which is  _ exactly _ what Harry wants, and he takes the opportunity to catch him in strong arms, grinning like a loon.

“My hero,” Louis says, rolling his eyes. 

“I know,” Harry says, and kisses up the side of Louis’ neck, making him shiver. Harry is  _ quite good _ at kissing, his lips seem to know Louis’ every sensitive spot. 

When Harry draws back, Louis tries to catch his lips in a kiss, but Harry is too quick for him, pulling out from behind his back the gag that he pushes past Louis’ lips. 

Louis moans around it as Harry deftly buckles it behind his head. The leather straps of it are the same blue as his dress.

“And because it’s an important bill, I’m going to need you a little dressed up,” Harry says, cupping Louis’ cheeks. Louis shivers, because he knows what that refers to, and a moment later Harry pulls a stiff piece around his neck, like a miniature corset, and threads a ribbon down to the nape of his neck, ending in a bow that tickles his back just above the dress. 

Louis can turn his head only minutely now, and isn’t able to look down at all. He wiggles his hips a little, to get Harry’s attention, and is rewarded with his mate standing in front of him again, a smug look on his face. 

“Might just keep you in this all night again,” he says, and Louis huffs out a response. Harry leans forward and bites at the soft skin just behind Louis’ ear and he groans. 

“Actually, we might be able to be a few minutes late to that parliament meeting,” Harry says, and then he drops to the floor, lifting Louis’ crinoline and completely disappearing from his sight. 

The silk tied around Louis’ legs has a slit at the front of it, for the purposes of relieving oneself. 

The slit can be used for other possibilities as well, though. 

Only ten minutes later, Louis stumbles out the front doors of the bath house, his steps small and dainty between the silk piece holding his thighs together and the high heels. Harry’s arm is firmly around his waist, over his own secured wrists, holding him upright. Nobody they pass on the street can tell that Louis’s cock stands at attention beneath all those layers, leaking almost as much as his slick hole, the nestled plug moving with every little step he takes. 

Onward to the steps of parliament. 

Where omegas are meant to be seen and not heard. 


End file.
